


The Girl From Starbucks

by Squid Squad (TerminalMiraculosis)



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Based on a True Story, F/F, High School AU, Human AU, Starbucks, almost forgot that one, borderline crack but i think i keep it in the realm of romantic comedy, canon to op24 but taking place in a parallel universe, coffee shop AU, i guess?, i only edited through this once but you know what? I think that's valid, t for language thats it tho, triple au combo baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 12:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21179801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerminalMiraculosis/pseuds/Squid%20Squad
Summary: Lynn drags Amy to Starbucks for a friendly outing, against Amy's free will. But the girl behind the counter turns out to be the same girl that transferred into Amy's chemistry class last week, the same girl that sits next to her, and, most importantly, the same girl she spent atleastten minutes staring at on Friday. To sum it up: she's screwed. And that'sbeforeshe accidentally tells her the wrong name.





	The Girl From Starbucks

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a true story; specifically, when [AglowSycophant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aglowSycophant/) said the wrong name to a cute barista at Starbucks. Also, his fics are really good so go read them.

“I can’t believe I’m going to Starbucks,” Amy said, stuffing her hands further down into the deep, dank pockets of her hoodie. She let strands of her hair fall forward to obscure her face; the last thing she wanted was for anybody she knew to see her in  _ Starbucks _ of all paces. “I feel like a bitch.”

“It’s seriously wild that you’ve never been before,” Lynn said, walking cheerfully along next to her on the sidewalk. She was also wearing a hoodie—her typical yellow one—but in addition was wearing athletic shorts, which made Amy unimaginably angry considering it was the middle of January. “They have the  _ best _ lattes.”

“You know how I said I feel like a bitch for going to Starbucks? That was me calling you a bitch. Just in case that went over your stupid, blonde head.”

Lynn just laughed, and continued to lead Amy down the street. Before too much longer, the smiling… mermaid lady, or whatever (she’d never been good with marine biology) was looking down at them from the Starbucks sign, judging them as they approached the shop. Amy reluctantly walked up to the glass and took a quick look inside.

“Ugh. I can smell the pretensity from here.”

“You realize you’re the one who just used the word ‘pretensity’ in casual conversation, right?”

“Okay, but that guy has airpods in,” Amy said, squishing her pointer finger up against the glass. “And—wait.” Amy’s eyes crept behind the counter where she saw… her. The new girl that transferred into school last week. The girl she had science with, and sat next to, and occasionally stared at. Science girl.

She was currently serving some plaid-wearing asshole hipster, but even so, her smile seemed so genuine and bright. She had her thick hair tied up in a ponytail, and she handed over the asshole hipster’s coffee with long, delicately painted black fingernails.

“You know, Amy,” Lynn said, “you’re not really convincing me that you hate Starbucks when you’re literally drooling on the window.”

Amy slapped a hand over her mouth and quickly turned away. “Shut up. I’m not going in there,” she mumbled.

She turned to leave, but Lynn grabbed her by the arm. “Aw, come on, Amy! You promised!”

Amy turned on her. “No, I didn’t! You just said ‘let’s get coffee for lunch, I know a place,’ and I was like ‘whatever.’ I didn’t think you’d drag me to fucking Starbucks! Besides, tomorrow’s Monday. We’ve got that trig test remember? We should probably be studying.”

“Since when do you care about trig?” Lynn asked, which, yeah, fair. “Besides, friends hang out with each other, and we’re friends, and this is what we’re doing. Now go on!”

Amy let out a yelp that was much higher pitched than she would like to admit. “Wait! No! This is assault! We’re not friends!”

“We are going to get  _ coffee together,”  _ Lynn growled, “and it will be  _ fun.” _

Amy huffed. “Okay. Jeez.”

She took a deep breath and stepped inside the store. This would be fine; she just wouldn’t order. Lynn could live with that. She didn’t even like coffee anyway!

That was a lie, she loved coffee, it was all she was running on—but that didn’t mean she needed to go up and order any! Especially not at Starbucks, and especially not when the barista was—

“Hey! Science class, right?”

Science girl. 

When had Amy reached the counter? Shit, science girl was staring at her. Pretty girl. Conversation. Uh. Shit. Fuck. She hated Starbucks. 

“Uuuhhh, um, huh, yeah,” Amy said. She could  _ feel _ Lynn looking at her funny.

“What can I get you?”

Amy’s eyes went wide. She hadn’t thought this through. She let out a low guttural sound and turned to Lynn, but she was no help, as usual, just raising an eyebrow. So Amy turned back to science girl and said, “Coffee.”

She giggled, and each beautiful note of it was a right hook straight to Amy’s face. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

“Black,” Amy said. “Black coffee. Large.”

“Venti,” Lynn said.

Amy sicked her rudest glare on Lynn, and whispered, very quietly,  _ “Shut the fuck up before I rip out your tongue and use it as a shoelace.” _

Lynn looked confused for a half-second, then smirked and gave her an ‘Ooooooh, I know what’s going on here ;^)’ look, and Amy was about to throttle her when science girl spoke up again. “What was that?”

Amy turned back to her so fast the hood of her hoodie fell off. “Nothing.”

“Uh, okay.” The girl looked slightly nervous. She had a paper cup in one hand, and a sharpie in the other. “Sorry, I—this is embarrassing, but I don’t think I ever got your name?” 

“My name?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “For… your drink?” Her mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly, and she had a teasing look in her eyes, and Amy just about died.

Okay, Amy, you got this. Just say your name. It’s not that hard.

“Three,” she said, like the fucking goddamn bullshit idiot son a of a bitch asshole she was.

“Three!” science girl said cheerily, apparently finding absolutely nothing wrong with that name at all. “Great! And what about you, ma’am?” She turned to Lynn. 

Lynn cleared her throat in the way she did when she was trying to suppress her laughter. “Yeah, um—” She looked at Amy and snorted, but quickly composed herself. “Sorry; I’ll have a grande iced skinny hazelnut macchiato, sugar-free syrup, extra shot, no whip and light ice.”

“I understand those words individually but I have no fucking clue what you just said,” Amy mumbled under her breath. 

“And can I get a name?” asked science girl. 

Lynn smirked. “Four.”

Amy wanted to die and also wanted Lynn to die. 

“Alright!” chirped science girl, scribbling ‘Four’ down on the cup. “Your drinks should be ready in just a moment!”

She smiled brightly at Amy, which caused her soul to leave her mortal body. Lynn paid, then had to drag Amy over to one of the tables. When they sat down, Lynn immediately broke down into laughter. 

“Amy oh my  _ god!” _

“Shut up.”

“Three, though? Why?”

“I was still thinking about trig,” Amy groaned, dragging her fingers down her face. “Fucking triangles…”

That only made Lynn laugh harder. “Man! I haven’t seen you get it this bad since Fiona in freshman year.”

“Hey, I thought we agreed not to talk about her.”

“Right, sorry,” Lynn apologized, waving her hand. “Instead, let’s talk about this girl. You know her?”

“She transferred to our school last week,” Three explained. “I sit next to her in chem.”

“Oh, shit,” Lynn said. “Does she have a name?”

“Yeah.”

Lynn blinked. “What… is it?”

Amy gulped. “No clue.”

“Amy oh my  _ god.” _

Amy buried her face into the table. It smelled like spilt coffee, but better to smell that than to wallow in the stench of her shame.

“Black coffee for Three!” an enchanting voice shouted from the counter.

“That was fast,” Amy said, twisting so her head was laying sideways facing the bar.

“Well, yeah, you ordered a black coffee,” Four deadpanned. “What did you expect?”

Amy ignored her awful friend and got up from the table, walking over to science girl and reaching for her drink. “Thanks.”

Science girl smiled. “No problem! I like your piercing, by the way.” She brought a finger up to her lip to demonstrate.

“Hhhhh,” Three replied. She took her drink, and ever so briefly, their fingertips brushed.

“Have a good day! See you tomorrow!”

“Uh, yeah, you too,” Amy said. She returned to the table in a daze.

“So, how’d it go?” Lynn asked.

“Good… Our hands brushed.”

“That’s pretty gay.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

* * *

Science class came all too quickly the next day. Science girl herself was already at her desk when Amy walked through the door, scribbling in a notebook. Was she drawing? That was so cute, god dammit.

She took a deep breath and walked over to her desk, letting her backpack tumble from her shoulders to the ground, where it slumped lazily against the chair leg. God. She wished she could be a backpack. Slumping lazily, no cares in the world. No girl problems. God.

“Hey Three!”

She hated that stupid number so much.

“Uh, yeah, hey,” Amy said, giving a small smile and wave and using up 60% of her emotional energy for the class period in the process. 

“I, uh, don’t think I ever properly introduced myself,” she said, blushing a bit. “I’m Zadie. But my friends just call me Eight!”

“They…” Amy suddenly realized that this girl totally thought that Three was an actual nickname that she had. “Okay.”

Their conversation was cut short as the teacher entered the room; except, it wasn’t the teacher, it was a sub. A very familiar sub: tall, with bright green eyes and hair worn up in an elaborate bun.

“What the fuck is she doing here,” Amy mumbled, watching as Marie crossed the room to the teacher’s desk.

“You know her?” Zadie whispered. Or, Eight, she guessed? Were they friends? Was them being friends enough justification for Amy to call her by a number instead of a name? Why was that a normal thing for her anyway? 

Whatever.

“Yeah. Family friend. But I didn’t know she was a  _ substitute.” _

Marie picked up a stack of papers and started shuffling them around aimlessly. “Alright, so like. You guys are gonna fill out a worksheet on biology or whatever.”

“Chemistry,” someone corrected.

“Yeah, that. And I’m going to sit here at my desk. If you have a question about chemistry. Google it. Cause I have no f—” She paused, expressionless. “No clue. If you start bleeding, go to the nurse. Don’t tell me; I want to be able to claim deniability.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” the same guy corrected.

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, unnamed child,” Marie said. “Class begins now. Come get a worksheet.”

Amy stood up amongst a chorus of pushed-out plastic chairs, and walked up to the front of the room. When she made it through the crowd to the desk, she grabbed a worksheet, and then made direct eye contact with Marie.

“Hey,” Amy said.

“I have never seen you before in my entire life,” Marie said, impassive as ever.

“Got it.”

The worksheet was deviously designed to last the whole period, and by the time both she and Eight were finished with it, there were only a few minutes left before they were let out for lunch. 

“Hey,” Eight began, “do you think I could eat lunch with you?”

_ Yes please, _ Amy’s brain said, but she managed to filter that into a cool, “I mean if you, uh, want, I guess, yeah, sure.”

She shrugged. “I don’t really have any other people at this school I know.”

“Right. Well, yeah. No problem. Just be mindful of my annoying friend, she has the worst taste in everything ever.”

“You mean Four?”

“…Yes,” Amy said slowly. “That is who I mean. Four.”

In a few minutes, the two of them were wandering through the cafeteria, food in hand, when Three spotted Lynn downing a small carton of skim milk like it was a shot on New Years. 

“I can’t believe you actually drink that shit,” Amy said, setting her tray down.

“I can’t believe the only milk you’ve consumed in the past eight years of your life has been chocolate milk,” Lynn shot back.

“Chocolate milk is a godsend.”

“It’s unnatural.”

“Eat my ass.”

Lynn smirked. “Well, if you’re that desperate.”

Eight sat down. “Hi! I’m Zadie! From Starbucks!”

Lynn practically spit out her disgusting milk, instead simply choking on it for a few seconds before coughing violently twice and saying, “Oh, hey. Didn’t. See you there.”

“But you can just call me Eight.”

Lynn raised an eyebrow. “Uh… sure?”

“You’re Four, right?”

“I guess?”

“She is,” Amy confirmed.

“Like you’re one to talk,  _ Three.” _

Amy ignored her, deciding instead to take a swig from her carton of delicious chocolate milk.

“A new school can be kinda intimidating,” Eight said, “but it's nice to have some familiar names.”

Amy paused, shared a look with Lynn, set down her drink, and said, “You know other people named… Three?”

“Yeah, from my old school,” Eight said. “He was a boy though. And he always wore his hair in a dumb ponytail, it was so ugly. Not like yours at all.”

“O-oh,” Amy said, feeling Lynn elbow her in the ribs and shooting her a look. “Thanks. Your hair’s pretty too.”

“O-oh,” she said. “Well… I like your shoes, they’re very cool.”

“O-oh,” Amy said. “Well, your jacket is really nice.” It was a very nice jacket, actually; leather, but, like, not in an assholey way.

“O-oh,” Eight said. “Well, I like your piercing.”

“You already said that yesterday,” Lynn injected. 

Amy didn’t exactly hear her. “Well, I, uh, like your face.”

“O-oh,” Eight said.

The table descended into silence. 

Lynn coughed. “So, uh. Are we a tricycle? Because I’m feeling a bit like a third—”

Amy kicked her under the table. “Hey, Eight. Do you wanna. Do something. Tomorrow night? Maybe.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Like a date?”

Amy went red. “NO—I mean, ye—I mean—” God she was panicking again. “Ha ha, what’s a date?”

“Are you actually literally kidding me,” Lynn said. She turned to Eight. “Yes, Eight. She is asking you out on a date.”

“Oh!” Eight smiled. “Well, sure! Where to?”

Amy stared at her. She had not expected to get this far. Eight stared back. Lynn stared between the two of them, judging. “Am I going to have to plan out your whole date, Am—Three?”

“Probably,” Amy admitted.

* * *

Lynn had graciously suggested a restaurant for the two of them to go to, and even more graciously offered to drive Amy, since Lynn actually had her license. Amy was currently looking out the passenger window of the Mom Van she drove, trying to run through safe conversation topics in her head.

They happened to pull into the parking lot outside the restaurant just as the door opened, and a woman with long, wavy hair dyed an ombre green walked out.

“Holy shit,” Lynn said, scrambling to unfasten her seatbelt. “That’s Marina Ida.”

“Who?”

“She’s from Off the Hook!”

“Off the what?”

“Oh my god—they’re a really good hybrid R&B/pop/electro band! How have you not heard of them?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Amy said. “Maybe because I have good taste in music.” 

Lynn jumped out of the car, running over to this Marina person, so Amy sighed, unbuckling and leisurely getting out of the car. Four was currently vomiting words onto this singer, who was being very well-natured about the whole ordeal.

“This is so cool!” Lynn was gushing. “God, I love your stuff so much! I listened to Shark Bytes on repeat for hours when your latest album came out!”

Marina Ida laughed. “Oh, thank you! This is actually my first time being recognized in public, but it’s always nice to meet a fan.”

“Really? But you guys are so popular!” Lynn said.

“Only to people with janky music taste, I guess,” Amy mumbled under her breath, leaning back against the hood.

“I didn’t know you guys were in Inkopolis City!” Lynn went on. “Are you doing a concert here?”

“Oh, no, no,” she said. “We actually just moved here, Pearl and I.”

“WHAT?! Yo, that’s so cool! Hey, can I get an autograph before you go?”

“Sure! Just let me…” Marina Ida started searching through her purse, probably for a pen or something.

“Hey, Lynn!” Amy called. “I’m going in!”

“What?” She turned. “Oh, uh, yeah. Have fun!”

Lynn’s head whipped back around to focus on the singer; Amy just shook her head and entered the restaurant. 

“Welcome,” the host said. “Just one?”

Amy blinked. “Oh, uh, I’m actually meeting—”   


“THREE!” Amy flinched, along with everyone in the restaurant, and turned to see Eight sitting in a booth by the window, waving her arms furiously. 

“Meeting someone,” Amy finished.

“Of course,” the host said with unshakable professionalism. “We’ll have someone with you two in a moment.”

“Thanks.”

Amy walked across the restaurant to Eight’s booth. The diner was cozy, but elegant, with a dark green carpet and earthy wallpaper that was covered in hanging oil paintings. It definitely had that ‘date’ feel to it; she had to admit, Lynn knew what she was talking about.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late,” Amy said as she approached the table. “Ly—Four got sidetracked by some singer outside. She was from Off the Hook; some band or something, I don’t know. I’ve never heard of it in my life.” She sat down and began scooting over to the center of the bench.

“Yeah, those are my parents!” Eight said. “Mom walked me in, so you probably caught her on the way out.”

“They’re—” Amy’s head was spinning. “You’re the daughter of a pair of idols?”

“Adoptive, but yeah,” Eight said. Then she froze. “Wait. But. That’s kind of a secret, okay? Don’t go telling people.”

“I mean, sure, but why is that a secret? Hell,  _ how _ is that a secret?”

“I think they want me to be able to have a normal high school experience,” Eight said. “They only got famous a few years ago, but they adopted before that, so.” She shrugged. “It wasn’t news at the time, I guess.”

“Huh.” Amy thought for a moment. “Can… I tell Four?”

“I… suppose,” Eight relented. “Why?”

“Because it’ll be hilarious.” 

Eight looked like she was going to say something to that, but she was cut off by the approach of the waitress. Amy looked up, and—oh god dammit.

“Hi! I’m Callie, and I’ll be your waitress today!” Callie chirped, flipping open a pad of paper. “Can I get you something to drink to start—oh, hey, Amy!”

“I have never seen you before in my entire life,” Amy droned.

Callie laughed. “Aw, don’t be like that to your big sister!”

She reached out to mess up Amy’s hair, but Amy karate chopped her wrist, which thankfully got her to draw back. “We’re not related.”

“Maybe not by blood, but we are by friendship!” Callie said.

“Look, are you going to take our orders, or am I going to have to request a different waitress?”

“Well, if you’re going to be like  _ that,” _ Callie said, rolling her eyes but clicking her pen open nonetheless. Amy relayed her order to her, and Callie scratched everything down before turning to Eight. “And what can I get for the pretty lady?”

Amy glared at her, but was ignored. Across the table, Eight blushed, but said, “I was thinking of getting the same thing, actually.”

Callie pressed her hands up against her cheeks, stars sparkling in her eyes. “Awwww! That’s so cuuuuute!”

“I’ll eat your kidneys,” Amy threatened.

“Well, I have other tables to wait on, but you two have fun!” Callie said, which caused Amy to breathe out a sigh of relief. She walked off a few steps before looking over her shoulder and wriggling her eyebrows at Amy. “On your  _ date.” _

Amy’s face heated from a mixture of embarrassment and primal fury, but she managed to avoid doing anything more drastic than gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles blanched.

“She was nice,” Eight said, eyes tracing Callie’s retreating form.

“That is. One way to put it,” Amy grumbled.

“Another friend of the family?”

“…Yes. I knew she worked as a waitress but I never thought to ask where, because if I did, she’d be all like, ‘Wow, how nice of you to take an interest in my life!’ and all that BS.” 

“Right.” Eight turned back to Three. “So, Amy?”

“Er, yeah, that’s my real name, I guess.”

“Hmm. I like Three better.”

“Yes so do I. Obviously.” 

God, she was so weak against pretty girls.

* * *

“So how’d it go?” Lynn asked as Amy climbed back into her car.

She couldn’t help but smile like an idiot, even though she knew it was exactly what Lynn wanted. “Really… really well. I have a girlfriend now.”

“Hey, congrats, Amy!”

She shook her head. “I think it’s Three now, officially.”

Lynn laughed as she twisted the ignition. “You’re such a mess. So, what’d you talk about?”

“Well, her parents are Off the Hook.”

Lynn, her hand on the gear shift, froze. “Wh.”

“Yeah.”

“Wh—wha—buh—wh?!” Lynn enunciated.

“Yeah.”

“Wait—no, you’re shitting me.” They looked at each other. “Oh my god, you’re not. I’m. Hhh. Okay.”

“I may need to borrow some of your CDs so I can pretend to like their music.”

“R-right,” Lynn said. “Do you think. You could get her to invite me over to her house?”

“Probably, yeah.”

“Amy? I love you.”

“That’s pretty gay.”

“I hate you.”

* * *

The next day, Amy was hastily pulling her shoes on, the early morning sun beating down through her blinds. There were very few things that could manage to get her to leave the house at 6:00 A.M., but… Eight was one of those things, apparently.

She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulders, then took off down the stairs, nearly bowling over Marie, who was walking zombie-like through the living room, clutching a cup of coffee like it was the only thing grounding her to the material plane.

“Jesus, kid,” Marie droned. “Where are you going? School doesn’t start till nine.”

“I’m—” Amy did a double take, staring at Marie. “Why are you in my house?”

“Hey, I asked first.”

“I’m… going to Starbucks,” Amy answered with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! If the ending seems abrupt that's because it is, I had no clue how to close this out.
> 
> For those of you who read my main work, [operation 24](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1269347), the final story is still coming, I promise, it's just taking a little longer than I expected. Currently sitting at like 15,000 words out of a projected 25,000 so its getting there. Also, while I'm shamelessly plugging myself, go check out my [tumblr](https://operation-24.tumblr.com) for splatoon art and stuff and also a final shoutout to [AglowSycophant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aglowSycophant/) again for being this fic's comedic inspiration. 
> 
> Okay I'm done. Thanks again! See you later!


End file.
